"It's not too much," he said. "I've tried talking to him a little, but I didn't get far; I haven't the patience right now. Sorry, I'm just tired. It's this damn month; you know the drill."
Years and years later, October was still hard. The changing of the seasons and the Halloween decorations continued to remind him of 1981.
"It's been a strangely long week," he added. "And I'm not sure about the daycare centre...I mean, I saw the ad and all, but think about the logistics of him going there. We've got to prep him for the Metamorphagus thing, and who knows what other things he'll blab about. It's pretty public knowledge what you and I are, but it doesn't mean others won't make a fuss about it."
He carefully sidestepped the question of a second child. Gabe was far from planned and the idea of waiting nine months as a nervous wreck for one he knew was coming seemed rather masochistic. He loved Gabe more than anything, but somewhere inside there was still a lingering self-doubt and guilt that he wasn't the easiest person to have as a father.